


In Other Words, I Love You

by jesuisloser



Category: Gotham (TV), Gotham - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Nygmobblepot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:32:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8897260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisloser/pseuds/jesuisloser
Summary: Edward Nygma is a new English teacher at Arkham Area Senior High, where he meets Oswald Cobblepot, a drama teacher. When funds run low in the theater department, Oswald and Ed have to put on a play to raise money. However, they don't expect to fall in love in the process.





	1. One

It was Edward Nygma’s first day at Arkham Area Senior High, and he couldn’t be more excited.

  
He was an English teacher, more interested in the literature aspect than anything else. Of course grammar and whatnot mattered a great deal, but it was the classics that really grasped at his attention. It gnawed at the back of his mind until he succumbed, finally spending his free time reading what he’d always been drawn to. It started to almost consume him; he would read whenever he had the chance to during his volunteer work at the local hospital. It became so bad he would sneak down to the morgue during lunch (or whenever he thought he could get away with it) and read to the cadavers set up for the next autopsy. He never got caught. Ultimately, his love of knowledge caused him to finally declare his major in college right before his second year. He finished out college and was discovered by a somewhat local high school.

  
It was Edward Nygma’s first day at Arkham Area Senior High, and he couldn’t be more nervous.

  
Ed had been offered a job in Gotham, New Jersey for an honours literature class before he was even finished with his final year. He agreed, the handsome salary he’d be rewarded with beckoning him. Of course, he knew how it went: the higher the salary, the more dangerous the job. The idea of living in a city with a high crime rate had admittedly intimidated him, but with all his debt and student loans to pay off, he realized this convenient of an opportunity probably wouldn’t come again. He decided he’d have to settle with living in a city where crime seemed to run wild, a thought that very much scared him. He wouldn’t tell that to anyone, though: he was Edward Nygma. He was fearless. Nothing could outsmart him. No one could beat him.

  
However, at the moment, none of this resonated with him.

  
As he looked up at the front entrance of the high school, his mind silenced. He was actually doing it. Today would be the first day of his new life, a better life. For the first time in his life, he could look forward to a new day. For the first time, he could say he was happy. His breath left him for a moment, and all that he could think was, “Oh, God.”  
Ed had job shadowed before, but it couldn’t compare to the feeling of actually realizing he’d achieved his life goal. This was the start of the end of the line for him, and it was exhilarating and terrifying.

  
It was 6:54 AM when he arrived at his classroom. The day didn’t start until 7:40, so he had some time to wake up and prepare for the day. His day.  
After hooking up his laptop and browsing on Netflix for a few minutes while drinking coffee, he decided to take a walk around the school, meet the other teachers, and get accustomed to his surroundings. The school itself seemed endless, but after going around a few nearby halls and memorizing their relativity to his classroom, it was more like a small network of corridors.

  
As he turned a corner, he bumped into someone else.

  
“Pardon me,” Ed said, reaching out and putting his hand on the other person’s shoulder, “I didn’t see you.”

  
The other man looked up from smoothing down his shirt and gave a tight lipped smile. He had green eyes, and jet black hair that was side swept but stuck up at the top of his head. He was wearing a black suit and gloves. He shrugged off Ed’s hand.

  
“Watch it,” he remarked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  
Ed gave a sincere, apologetic smile in response as the other man limped away, looking back at him with a grimace.

  
Ed exhaled shakily. However, he assured himself this unpleasant encounter wouldn’t spoil his mood. So what if one person didn’t like him? He still had the rest of the year to prove himself capable.

  
After getting to know the school better, Ed went back to his room around 7:30 AM and waited for homeroom to start.

The first few periods went the same: he assigned seats and got to know the students. At the beginning of class, though, he asked a different riddle each period. Usually, no one got them except for a few people.

  
After he learned most of their names, he handed out the course syllabus and explained what they were going to be doing all year. He gave them some forms to have their parents sign, and then it was the end of the period just like that.

  
Some of the kids were a little...odd. Ed didn’t think he could connect with a lot of them. So many of them seemed to be arrogant ‘badasses’ who made snide comments and didn’t pay attention. The others didn’t seem to care about what was going on.  
In period four, however, he noticed a student who resembled him in his hair and glasses who seemed to actually enjoy his class. His name was Jimmy. He didn’t speak much, and when he did, he mumbled, but Ed could tell he had potential.

  
“What gets bigger the more you take from it?”

  
The students were bewildered for a moment, before snickering among themselves. Their English teacher was _weird_.

  
Jimmy immediately raised his hand, which surprised everyone.

  
“Yes, uh, Jimmy?”

  
“A hole,” he answered with enthusiasm.

  
Ed was surprised. No one in his other periods seemed to like riddles or take them seriously.

  
“That’s correct,” he replied with a proud smile.

  
The rest of the day whizzed by. Around lunch break he found himself instead of going up to the teacher lounge, staying in the classroom. Not that he didn’t want to socialize with the other teachers. He more just wanted time to process the job he had finally gotten. The school was very chaotic, but so was Gotham. There were plenty of rude students, but that is expected with teenagers. Ed had decided he made the right choice to teach here.

It was the next week when there was a meeting called after a school day. Ed was grumpy about having to stay after, but toughed it out. He had no clue what the meeting was about. It had only been a week, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was another shooting threat. _Welcome to Gotham, hope you feel welcomed,_ he thought bitterly.

  
Taking his seat in the teacher's lounge, Ed noticed that the other teachers didn’t look too vexed. Probably not a shooting threat then. He recognized a few of the faces around the table. One of them being the teacher he had made an encounter with on his first day. Only, he actually didn’t look like he wanted to gouge out everybody's eyes at the moment. Instead, he looked very excited.

  
“I wanted to call this meeting to request some funds. My theater department is lacking, and I was hoping you’d be kind enough as to, um, donate some money?” the man asked, hopeful. He seemed a little bit awkward in his body language, Ed noticed. He would smile and let out short, breathy laughs when flustered.

  
The principal was a stern man, with a slightly grown out regulation military haircut and a sharp, defined jawline that added to his intimidation factor. His eyes were a piercing blue that seemed to see past any façade someone might have. His name was Mr. Gordon.  
“Mr. Cobblepot-” Mr. Gordon began.

  
“Oswald, please,” the man insisted. Mr. Gordon hesitated for a moment.

  
“Oswald,” he said, and Oswald smiled, “I think it’s a better option to fund raise at this point in the year. In a few months will be Christmas. Maybe if you came up with, say, an holiday-themed activity for the students to engage in around that time, they would be willing?”

  
“A-an extracurricular activity, you mean?”

  
“Perhaps, but not necessarily.”

  
Oswald seemed a little disappointed, but pursed his lips in a tight smile and agreed.

  
Despite Ed’s rather...unfavorable opinion towards the man, this was a little difficult to watch.

  
“If I may?” Ed suddenly interjected. Everyone turned to him and he felt himself go a little bit red. Mr. Gordon nodded. Oswald was giving him an odd look. “You are a drama teacher, right?”

  
“Theater,” he corrected, matter-of-factly

.  
“Well, what if you put on some sort of play?” Ed asked. No one said anything, so he continued. “The students could make props or bring them in from home. Stage crew is a thing, so the lights and background designs would be taken care of. We’d just have to make sure the auditorium is available. The money could come from the tickets we sell.”  
Mr. Gordon hummed in response, deliberating for a moment.

  
“What exactly would this play be? Would the students write it?”

  
“Well, I was thinking-”  
“Sir,” Oswald interrupted, “do you really think this would be a good idea? I mean, wouldn’t it be easier to just lend me the money now? What if not enough tickets sell?”  
Mr.Gordon thought for a moment, considering if the tickets didn't sell before coming to a conclusion, “Well, you better put on one damn good play then.”

  
Oswald still wasn’t satisfied with the response, Ed could tell by the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  
“With all due respect to the students, and other teachers here, these kids don’t seem like the most passionate about writing and theater. It’s going to be hard for them to write a decent play.”

  
Gordon was starting to get fed up with Oswald. He snarkily replied back, “Good thing we have a new English teacher. If you want to put on a play so bad, why don’t you two work together?”

  
Before Oswald could destroy any chances left of there being a school play, Ed decided to take action, “That sounds like a wonderful idea!”

  
“It’s settled, you two will work together to put on a school play.”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of auditions finally comes, and Ed and Oswald find themselves not resenting each other as much as they thought.

After the meeting was over, Ed went back to his classroom to gather his stuff and head home. Before he could even leave his room he heard an angry _tap, tap, tap_ limp into his room.

“What the hell was that?”

He didn’t even have to turn around to see who it was. “Me, saving your play.”

“ _S_ _aving_ it?” He scoffed, shaking his head. Ed took a deep breath and turned to look at the man- Oswald.

“Yes. Come on, you saw! Mr. Gordon wasn’t going to just hand you money.”

“Maybe not, but your idea is just absurd! Those kids want nothing to do with performing. This is Gotham. I know you’re new here, but in the last week we’ve already had a bomb threat just to get out of class!” Oswald folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not doing this.” Ed furrowed his brows together.

“Well, do you want to go back to Gordon?”

“ _Mister_ Gordon,” Oswald corrected with a glare.

“I didn’t know you were so far up his ass.”

Oswald’s eyes widened and his face went pink. He quickly hobbled over to Ed and pressed a finger against his chest.

“You, good sir, are insufferable, and I am not working with you!”

With that, he whipped around and limped back out the door in which he came.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Ed grumbled under his breath.

 

For the next week, Ed and Oswald stayed after school for planning, much to the dismay of both of them.

“So, first thing on the list, we have to decide which play to do,” Ed said, thinking out loud.

“How about: know-It-All English Teacher Who Is a Pain?” Oswald replied to Ed sarcastically.

“Sorry, Cobblepot, never heard of that one. Riddle me this, I give the stupid pride and knowledgeable a headache, what am I?”

Oswald have Ed a funny glance. “What does that have to do with anything we are talking about here?”

Ed smirked and shot back, “Oh, it fits very well actually, The answer: arrogance.” Oswald looked enraged. He looked like he was ready to limp over to Ed and strangle him. Ed couldn’t help the smug look on his face, though. He knew he wasn’t being as mature as he could be at the moment, but Oswald, he was absolutely discourteous.  

“You know what-”

“Anyway, I was thinking,” Ed cut him off, watching in amusement as Oswald’s face contorted in fury, “how about we put on It’s a Wonderful Life?”

Oswald calmed down enough just to say, “I don’t think the parents or the students would want to perform a play with implications of suicide.” He had on an all too satisfied look. Ed just stared at him for a few moments, hoping Oswald would see the irony in that statement. When he didn’t, Ed finally replied.

“You do realize, Os,” adding the nickname after a moment, “that this school gets bombing and shooting threats and intruder drills pretty much every week, right?”

Oswald’s face fell back into a scowl.

“Whatever, Riddle Man.”

Ed held back a laugh.

 

It had been decided that Ed and Oswald were to announce that the school would be putting on a play during the morning announcements. Ed had thought of the idea of auditions being a summative grade, so there would even be auditions.

“Ahem, good morning students,” Oswald said formally over the speaker, “we will-”

“We are setting up a play-” Ed said quickly.

“Ed let me finish, God,” Oswald huffed. “As I was saying, we’re setting up the play It’s a Wonderful Life. Auditions are-”

“Right now, immediately.”

There was a loud _smack_. Oswald returned to the microphone after a few seconds of rushed, angry whispering.

“Auditions are-”

“September 20th,” Ed said, and the smile was evident in his voice.

There was a pause, then a deep breath.

“Edward if you don’t be quiet I will- I will cut off your legs,” Oswald said in a very calm manner.

“Threat! I’m calling the police!” Ed joked. Oswald didn’t appreciate that very much.

“You know as well as I do that even if I was serious the school would do nothing because of how many school shooting warnings we get.”

“Os, chill the fuck out, I’m kidding. It’s just a joke.”

“Edward! Watch your language, we are on the air!” Oswald hissed.

“Come on, I’ve heard worse from the freshmen.”

They bickered until they were aware that everyone in school could hear them and Ed abruptly announced, “Auditions are September 20th. Be there or be square.” Then, the microphone was shut off.

 _Mister_ Gordon wasn’t too happy with their microphone charades. Now both of them were sat in his office like two kids who had gotten in trouble for starting a foodfight.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire both of you.”

Oswald scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well, sir, as you know, Mr. Nygma here has shown himself incapable of handling his job, it is with the greatest intentions in my heart I think you should just let go of him.”  

“Mister Gordon, I'm really deeply sorry for what went down. I promise what happened there does not reflect either of our characters.”

After much down right pleading from both of them, Gordon gave in, “Just…. Don’t ever let something like that happen again.”

 

Outside his office, Oswald smirked at Ed.

“Who’s far up Mr. Gordons ass now, Nygma?”

“Oh, shush up.” Ed rolled his eyes. He wanted to scream at Oswald. He wanted to strangle him, say so many ungodly words. He tried to get him fired. Funny though, instead he found himself bursting out with laughter instead.

Oswald couldn’t help but laugh either, not that any of this was funny it was just so uncomfortable that laughing seemed like the only response. Both of them were laughing like maniacs for two men who almost gotten fired.

Oswald managed to collect himself some to wheeze out, “You, my friend, are absolutely insane.”

 

The day of auditions came sooner than expected.

Oswald and Ed decided to just merge their periods into the auditorium at the same time, so Oswald’s period one and Ed’s period one classes would be together, and so on.

Many students tried out for all kinds of roles, not only because anyone in Oswald’s class had to, but many were just genuinely intrigued.

Jimmy had been interested in stage crew since he chose it as an elective in middle school, so he assumed this would be an easy grade. He signed up to help work the lights, then was done for the whole period.

As he sat on the auditorium steps, he watched as Mr. Nygma’s class and Mr. Cobblepot’s class scrambled around on stage, auditioning one at a time. One student, Jimmy thought, was particularly cute. He must be in Mr. Cobblepot’s class during this period.

The student, who was named Todd, he had learned during his audition, had a shaved head (but it was growing out nicely) and dressed well.  

Todd was auditioning for the part of the angel. Went through his lines swiftly, not smiling at the wrong parts, or purposely messing up like some other kids who thought they were being funny. Jimmy was no actor, but he knew that that boy had an amazing stage presence. Though some other kid, Jerome, was also great on stage, he was more on the...creepier side than cute.

Jimmy decided he had nothing to lose, so he stood up confidently and strode over to Todd, who was on his phone. He looked up as Jimmy approached him.

“I see you’re auditioning for Clarence,” he said.

“Y-yeah, I am, why? Are you my competition?” he asked nervously.

“No, I,” Jimmy started, “I just wanted to say that you’re perfect for the roll.” Todd smiled brightly. “‘Cus you’re an angel.”

Todd’s smile faltered into a look of confusion, but only for a second until he was laughing.

“God, sorry that was weird and cheesy, I was just joking I swear I wasn’t trying to be weird, I-”

“It’s okay,” Todd cut him off. “I, um, you’re cute, too.”

They both smiled at each other, and spent the period together talking about nothing and everything.

Meanwhile, Ed and Oswald were finally starting to get along, or at least not hate each other _as_ much.

“God, those were...atrocious,” Ed said when it was finally all over.

“That’s one thing we can agree on.” Oswald replied absentmindedly.

“Finally,” Ed scoffed jokingly.

It was the end of the day and Oswald was waiting for Ed to pack up his things so they could walk out to their cars together. They made a habit of this on accident- one day, they had been so caught up in conversation they hadn’t realized they were walking out the doors. Oswald made sure to park near Ed’s car the next day so they could then walk in at the same time. It was a nice routine, but neither one of them would admit it.

Right before they headed separate ways to their cars, Oswald stopped Ed.

“Um...Ed?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah?”

He hesitated for a few moments, and Ed thought he wouldn’t say anything, until he did.

“Would you...would you like to come to my house for a drink sometime?”

To say Ed was surprised was an understatement. Sure, their friendship (or whatever it was they had) wasn’t going too terribly, but Ed realized he must’ve been misjudging how Oswald really felt towards him the whole time. Oswald actually...enjoyed having him around.

That idea was rather odd, he thought. They still argued a lot. They actually argued about a lot of infinitesimal things that would end up having little to no relevance in their lives at all. Maybe, Ed finally thought, that joking about hating him was Oswald’s way of showing his affection?

But no, that couldn’t be right- Oswald jumped at the chance at protecting or caring for Ed whenever he could. For instance, when there had been the first bomb threat and everyone had to evacuate the school, Ed had hinted it was a little chilly out. Oswald immediately offered his coat, which raised a few eyebrows, but Ed graciously accepted it.

At the first the lockdown, Oswald rushed over to Ed’s room the second it was over to make sure he was okay. He didn’t want him to be scared or hurt- it was his first one, after all. Ed had insisted he was perfectly fine, if a little bit shaken up, and Oswald exhaled a breath of relief.

All of this ran through Ed’s mind for a few seconds, until he remember his colleague was awaiting an answer. He felt himself say “yes,” but doesn’t remember ever deciding in his mind that that’s what he was going to do.

Oswald beamed and nodded and said, “Okay,” a few times. He seemed breathless.

“Do you want my number? Just in case you want to hang out this weekend or something,” Ed offered. Oswald seemed a little taken off guard, but pulled out his phone and allowed Ed to type it in.

When Ed gave it back, Oswald saw he put in his name as Edward Nygma, but Oswald had already changed it to Ed with the question mark emoji in his mind.

“I’ll text you then, Ed,” he said, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

They waved goodbye, and when Ed smiled, he felt his heart speed up just the tiniest bit.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Oswald go out to lunch.

 

The week went by in a blur.

  
Oswald had decided while laying on his couch in boredom to gather up the courage to actually call Ed. He had given him his number so they could talk, anyway. Pressing call was easier said than done, though. After a lot of back and forth arguing in his head he pressed call. Around the third ring he was ready to just hang up when there was an answer.

  
“Hello?”

  
“Ed! Didn’t think you’d pick up…. I was just really bored and deci-”

  
Oswald was cut off, “Uh, who is this?”

  
Oswald laughed with a bit of embarrassment, “It’s Oswald, Ed.”

  
Ed perked up a whole lot more when he heard who it was on the other end. “Oh! I am so sorry, I would blame that mistake on no coffee, but I am afraid I’ve already had two cups.”

  
Oswald smiled, “It is a-okay, my friend.”

  
“What happened to me being insufferable?”

  
“Oh about that, I’m really-”

  
Ed cut him off again, “Oswald, I’m joking!”

  
Oswald laughed and said, “oh.” The rest of the conversation went surprisingly smoothly. Oswald invited Ed out to have lunch, and Ed happily obliged. In an hour, they would meet up at a small diner in town.

  
With forty five minutes to go, Oswald had already picked out his suit and tie for the day. With thirty minutes to go, he was venting to Olga, his housemaid, about how excited he was.

  
“Olga, I really can’t believe it- I mean, we just completely get each other!”

  
“Da,” she replied.

  
“At first, I was like, ‘who’s this douche?’ but now...he’s not completely intolerable. He’s, I mean I know it’s only been what, a month or two since we met and even less since we actually started becoming...friends,” Oswald smiled at the word, “but I really like him. He’s the only person I have anymore.”

  
Olga looked displeased.

  
“Of course, you’ve been there,” he quickly added, “but...anyway, I told him about my mother only briefly. If I tell him everything, his response would show a great deal of his character, would it not?”  
She nodded in response, but it didn’t seem like her attention was fully on him or the conversation.

  
“I have faith he won’t let me down.”

 

Oswald arrived to the diner a few minutes early to choose a seat (Not because he was looking forward to seeing Edward, he told himself. Not at all.).This would be a test of his character, to show whether or not Oswald could trust him. It was imperative that everything was perfect.

  
Oswald chose a small two person table sat near the window. He fiddled with his hands, folded his napkin over a few times, and checked his phone anxiously when he didn’t come in at exactly 11:57 AM.

  
Ed came in a few minutes later, just as he said he would. He quickly surveyed the room for his friend, then walked over and sat down.

  
“Sorry I’m not one hundred percent on time,” he said apologetically, “I tried to leave as early as I could but the traffic wasn’t too good. I know you’re kind of picky about that.”

  
‘Don’t worry about it, friend,” Oswald said, “there’s just something I wished to discuss I suppose.”

  
“Yeah?” Ed asked.

  
“Yeah,” he replied nervously. He would finally be telling someone other than Olga all about everything that’s been bothering him for the past few months. “I’ve mentioned my mother a few times, right?”

  
“You want me to meet her so soon?” Ed joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Oswald appreciated that; he must sense how on edge he felt.

  
“Oh, please,” he said, feeling a small wave of relief.

  
“But yes, you have mentioned her once or twice.”

  
“Well,” he started, looking away, “she’s not exactly doing too well.” Ed’s smile faltered.

  
“Is she okay?” he asked, but then added, “Are you okay?”

  
“Well, I mean-”

  
Just as he said that, a waitress came over to take their orders. She had blonde hair tucked neatly in a bun, fair skin, and blue eyes. Her name tag read ‘Barbara.’  
“I’m Barb, I’ll be your waitress for today,” she said kindly, “can I start you off with drinks?”

  
“Oh, I’ll just have a water, please,” Oswald said. Ed ordered the same.

  
“Are you ready for to order or do you need a few minutes?” Ed and Oswald stole a quick glance.

  
“A few minutes, please,” Ed said, as if reading the other’s mind.

  
“I’ll be back soon, then, my loves,” she said with a smile before scampering off. Oswald got an unpleasant vibe from her. But that’s not what he was there for.

  
“As I was saying, I love my mother very much, but she’s not doing well.” He looked up at Ed to see his reaction. His brows were knit together, but not in anger- in sympathy.

  
“I’ll admit, I’m not good with this stuff, but if you need me, I’m here,” Ed offered. “I can listen. I’m afraid I can’t do much else, but if it’s any consolation, you can come to me.” Oswald met his eyes. They were filled with a kind of grief, but not one that he could place. He finally nodded.

  
“Thank you.”

  
“Don’t feel like you have to say everything, either. If you’re not comfortable, that’s alright. This must be hard for you,” he sighed. Oswald’s throat was closing up.

  
“Yeah,” he choked out, “yeah it is. It’s hard to see someone you love so much go through something so…” he trailed off.

  
“And it’s even worse if they don’t deserve it,” Ed said. Oswald noticed he had a distant look in his eyes.

  
“My mother is a saint,” Oswald said, smiling at the thought of her, “she’s so precious. She’s never wronged me, or anyone that I know of, for that matter. Why would God choose to destroy such an innocent life?”

  
Ed thought for a moment.

  
“Maybe, assuming there is a God,” he started, “that he’s not punishing her, necessarily. Maybe he’s trying to hurt someone close to her.”

  
“And the only way to truly hurt someone,” Oswald said, finishing Ed’s thought, “is to hurt someone they love.”

Ed nodded solemnly.

  
“That’s such a cruel, cruel thing to do to someone. But I suppose love is a weakness in that way.”

  
Oswald mulled over in his head exactly what he meant. Could that have any relevance in his own personal life? He realized that he knew little about Ed’s life. Maybe this could help remedy that.

  
“God can be cruel,” Oswald said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Ed agreed. “Do you have any family?”

  
Ed visibly stiffened. His expression seemed to turn colder.

  
“I do, yes, but we don’t exactly talk. We didn’t leave on the best of terms.” Oswald understood, and didn’t pry further. The only thing he knew to do was to rest his hand on Ed’s to offer consolation. Ed smiled with gratitude in response. It was somewhat weak, perhaps a little forced, but if Oswald noticed, he didn’t say anything.

  
The lunch went very well- they ate and talked about everything that had been happening in their lives both professionally and not.

  
At one point, when the waitress had come to collect their plates, she (very openly) flirted with Oswald. She whispered in his ear and his face went red, his freckles standing out even more. Ed had laughed.

  
“Don’t you like the attention?”

  
Oswald didn’t know how to respond that he had only liked the attention if it was from someone who wasn’t a woman. Wasn’t what she said also considered harassment?

  
“I don’t-” was all he had said until he stopped himself. “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend, boyfriend?” Ed seemed to notice the implication that perhaps he liked men, but didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

  
“Well, I do have my eye on someone,” he said mysteriously.

  
“Yeah? Tell me about them,” Oswald offered.

  
“Well, you know Miss Kringle? She’s the history teacher.” Oswald had remembered bumping into her once or twice.

  
“Yeah, but workplace romance never really ends well, you know,” Oswald pointed out.

  
“You’re right. But hey, I won’t know unless I try, right?”

  
“Hmm, a compelling argument,” he responded.

  
He couldn’t understand why exactly, but when Ed said he was going to pursue Miss Kringle, Oswald felt an odd weight in his stomach. It couldn’t be jealousy. He didn’t get jealous. Besides, even if they started dating or something, she would never get in the way of their friendship. Oswald’s confidence in that settled his nerves.

  
After a few minutes, the check came, and Ed insisted to pay. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, he had said. That only made Oswald feel guilty.

  
Ed walked Oswald to his car, and there, they said their goodbyes for the day until Monday.

  
“Thank you for paying. You really didn’t have to do that, I mean, I feel bad since you’re my guest,” Oswald said.

  
“Please, it’s my pleasure. I had a really good time today. It’s nice to finally have someone I can talk to about whatever’s on my mind.”

  
“Yeah, I feel the same,” Oswald replied with a grin.

  
A few minutes standing in the cold had took its toll and they finally left. Each went their separate ways, both in a good mood.

  
As soon as he got home to the mansion, Oswald went straight to Olga to update her.

  
“I’ve decided I can trust him,” he said. “He has a rather troubled past as well. I didn’t get the specifics, but I could just tell from the way he looked when I asked about his family.”

  
The Russian woman only nodded, allowing him to continue.

  
After talking about to her (or at) about everything that happened, he finally decided to sit down and just relax.

However, after twenty minutes, he received a phone call that destroyed everything.

  
“Oswald Cobblepot?” a voice on the line asked.

  
“Yes, this is he. Who’s asking?” he said rather defensively.

  
“This is Doctor Quinzel at Arkham General Hospital. Your mother Gertrud is in critical condition, and we need you to come right away.”


	4. Four

Oswald wasn’t at school the next day. His substitute was a man named Mr. Bullock, who seemed a lot nicer than Oswald, but he couldn’t help but miss his surly comments. Though Ed told himself not to worry, that he probably had a cold or something, he couldn’t help thinking of the worst possible scenario. However, he decided, instead of moping around he was to spend his lunch break with Miss Kringle (assuming she agreed). If everything went well, he would finally get to actually have a conversation with the woman he had been pining after.

  
Miss Kringle had accepted his invitation to spend her lunch break with him. Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. Ed found himself counting down the minutes, he had completely forgotten his worries from this morning. Oswald didn’t cross his mind once.

  
One of his students in second period had asked him why he kept glancing at the clock, actually. He had joked around saying he was counting down the time till his freedom. In actuality, He was counting down the second till lunch break. Hardly teaching the last half of class, Ed told everybody just to grab a book, not even caring if people were just talking and goofing off.

  
Riiiiiiiiiiiiing.

  
The lunch bell. Kids scrammed out of their seats rushing to the halls. Ed was barely able to contain himself from shooting out of his seat and joining the flock. It took every single nerve in him to wait at his seat until the swarms calmed down. What seemed to take hours, really a few minutes, passed.

  
Ed waited patiently for Kristen to arrive, and when she finally did, he felt he didn’t know what to say. He’d practiced his monologue all morning, but when confronted with the reality, he found himself...speechless.

  
“Miss Kringle,” he said, wonderstruck, “you look beautiful.”

  
Kristen smiled and looked away shyly. Her red hair was pulled back as it usually was, and her glasses had a somewhat unfamiliar gleam to them.

  
“Thank you, Mr. Nygma.”

  
“Oh, please, call me Edward,” he insisted.  
“Okay then, Edward, can I ask why you wanted to see me?”

  
He felt as though he couldn’t exactly say that he just wanted to get to know her, as that would be unprofessional (at least to him). Instead, he said the next thing that came to his mind.

  
“Would you- did you see the auditions?”

  
“Some of them, yes. Why?”

  
Ed felt a wave of relief.

  
“I was hoping you could help me pick out the main cast? I don’t have much free time. This is my only open period besides nine, but I know you have class that period, so…” he trailed off, hoping she wouldn’t feel as though he was being creepy or weird. He simply wanted to spend time with her and see where their relationship could end up going. What was wrong with that?  
  
Oswald spent the previous day in the hospital, stretching the visiting hours as long as they would go. He stayed until hospital personnel had to coax him out. Finally, finally he went home, but it was only about 2:30 in the afternoon. He thought about talking to Ed, but he decided this was his own problem; he wouldn’t burden his friend with something so heavy to carry. Oswald would get through this himself, no matter how difficult it would be.

  
So, he spent the rest of his day trying to distract himself with cleaning the house. That worked for a while, until it didn’t anymore. He then switched to playing piano, but the only pattern that he seemed to remember went along to the song ‘My Mother is Still Watching Over me.’

  
He skipped dinner that night and went to bed early, but not before calling into Mr. Gordon and requesting the next day off to see his mother in the hospital, which was granted.

  
Visiting hours were from 10 AM to 2 PM, so he woke up at 9:30 to get ready. His stomach had an awful pit the entire time he was awake, and only got worse the closer to the hospital he got. Even though he knew he would get a call in case there was any change, he couldn’t help but feel nauseated.

  
The checking in went by as usual, but Oswald didn’t seem to remember it. Everything was slowing down. When he was talking to the receptionist, he spoke but it was almost instinctive and unconscious. His mind was elsewhere, so his body seemed to take over. It was an awful feeling of not being in control.

  
When he finally got to his mother’s room again, he had to take a few deep breaths before going in. He shut his eyes and rubbed them, as if he was trying to force himself awake from a dream. It didn’t work.

  
His first steps into the room were as they were the day before: hopeless. He was voluntarily subjecting himself to watching his mother’s suffering, and he could do nothing to help her. His eyes drifted over to the DNR bracelet wrapped loosely over her thin wrist, and then realized no one could help her anymore, legally or not. The realization that his mother didn’t want to live anymore crushed him like the weight of the world.

  
His steps grew slower, more lethargic. He found he almost couldn’t stand anymore; his legs wanted to give out. Gertrud was watching her son’s movements with tired eyes.

  
She was frail, and her breathing was severely constricted. She had nasal cannulas and was hooked up to an oxygen ventilator. COPD, he remembered the diagnosis was.

  
“My beautiful boy,” she rasped. Oswald had to mentally and physically prepare himself to reply. The catch in his throat was growing by the second. He tried to swallow it down, but it was too painful.

  
“Mother,” he finally choked out. The tears in his eyes were welling up so rapidly that he couldn’t see anything clearly anymore. Everything was a blur. He mustered up the courage to close his eyes and let them roll down his cheeks. If he were to witness his mother’s last moments, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he wasn’t able to see the way he looked at her.

  
She motioned for Oswald come closer. His legs felt so, so heavy walking towards her hospital bed. He wanted his mom to be able to sit up and hug him, like she used to do when he was much younger. He remembered when he was a child, he would have nightmares. His mother never complained when he woke her up, asking to lay in bed with her. She would hug him and remind him that the nightmares were only fiction.

  
He was snapped back to reality when he felt his mother wiping tears from his face.

  
“Oswald, please don’t cry.”

  
“Mother, I’ll miss you so much.” It nearly broke Gertrud's heart to hear her son's voice crack as he said that.

  
“Do not say that. You will see me again,” she said, looking at her son with eyes that pierced through his heart. He wanted so badly to tell her of all the terrible things he has done.

  
“Mother, I...you are an angel, and I am not.” He smiled sadly. Her hand cradled his cheek.

  
“You are-” she stopped to cough a few futile times each racking her body, “you are heaven sent.” Her gaze was a myriad of bullets. It prevented him from doing anything at all, moving, speaking, and his breathing became shallower so much so that it almost matched his mother’s. The determination she had stopped him from telling her she was wrong, that he had done unforgivable things, that even if he did repent, he would never find deliverance, wherever it was hiding.

  
The rattling in her chest soon became more and more apparent as time went on. Nurses came in every fifteen minutes to check her vitals, and eventually, the million dollar question came.

  
“Would you like to start the morphine?”

  
That’s when Oswald knew. Death was approaching like a freight train, and his mother was tied to the tracks. The only thing slowing it down was the rocks and pebbles caught in the wheels. But it would be here any minute, as sure as sugar dispersing itself into water, as concrete as the colors of the sky.

  
She took a minute to steady her breath. She was trembling. It seemed to Oswald that she needed so much energy to do something as simple as breathing. It sounded as if she was drained even further with every inhale, that the amount of force required was enough to make the world collapse into itself, or to pull the stars from the sky.

  
Eventually, she nodded. Oswald closed his eyes.

  
The nurse obligated, giving her her wish.  
“Mother, I...I just want to say I love you very much.” Oswald’s lips were trembling and a lot of the words were jumbled together, but Gertrud knew exactly what her son was saying.

  
“My angel, I love you so much. I’m so, so proud of my beautiful boy.”

  
Neither of them had much else to say. They held hands tightly, knowing that this would be the last time. Oswald sobbed harder as her eyes started to close. He squeezed her hand tighter, she squeezed lightly back, one last time. Her hand went limp. As gross as it may sound to others, Oswald found himself laying next to his dead mother, hugging her. The nurse had asked if he wanted a few minutes alone with her, to which Oswald only nodded.

  
This all felt like a horrible nightmare. Everything was painfully slow. My god, Oswald found himself doing something he hadn’t done since he was a boy, he prayed. He prayed he would wake up from this nightmare and be able to crawl in bed with his Mother.

  
Oswald didn’t wake up, though. He didn’t wake up when the nurse came back and told him he had to get up now. He didn’t wake up when he was forced out of the room, nor did he wake up when he was shouting at the people forcing him out to let go of him.

  
Outside, back in his car, he slammed his head against the dashboard. This wasn’t a nightmare.


End file.
